


The Price of Wings

by kiri_bronach



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Self-Sacrifice, Slavery, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27390361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiri_bronach/pseuds/kiri_bronach
Summary: Acacia and her friends are attacked by bandits while traveling. Acacia makes a difficult decision to save them.For the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt "made a slave".
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Female Character
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2000947
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	The Price of Wings

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr a few months ago here: https://moonbeamnights.tumblr.com/post/187029678188/title-untitled-fandom-original-fiction
> 
> I was going to leave it there because I didn't have a title for it, but I thought of one, so here it is.

They were four young women, traveling through barely settled areas, unarmed and alone save for each other and the horses pulling their wagons. They probably should have waited, probably should have learned to shoot or held off on leaving until someone could have gone with them. But leaving even a day later would have meant risking traveling in the snow and who knew what could change if they waited the whole winter. It was a relatively short trip, anyway, Acacia had reasoned. It wasn’t like they were traveling unprotected all the way from the northern border.

They had paid for being as easy of a target as they looked.

Acacia thinks about her parents telling her never to show her wings, about the horror stories of what could happen if she did. Then, she thinks about Andrea, who had everything to prove to the world. About Melisande, who wanted nothing more out of life than to help people. About Stephania, whose idea this whole trip had been. She knows, as clearly as she has ever known anything, that she can’t let these bandits take away her friends’ chances, and that she is the only one who can stop them.

Behind her back, Acacia reaches up and begins unbuttoning her blouse. She works carefully, trying to keep her movements subtle. If the bandits notice the sudden bend in her elbows, they must have seen enough of the girls’ religious trinkets to pass the change in posture off as prayer. The lead bandit is almost done emptying their wagons when Acacia finishes with the buttons. She begins to tug at the bindings keeping her wings down and her fear intensifies. This is the hard part. It is hard to unwind the strips of cloth knowing that too much movement could provoke the nearest bandit into shooting her. It is hard to think about what this decision will mean for her future, if she has one. Finally, it is done. The bindings fall away and gather at her waist.

The lead bandit surveys the piles he’s made of all the girls’ belongings. “Worthless junk,” he says with a scowl.

“How much, boss?” the bandit pointing a gun at Andrea asks.

"Couple thousand, if we take the horses.” Acacia takes this as her cue to act. She stands slowly, cautiously. All the bandits’ attention shifts to her and she hears the guns click in anticipation. She does pray then, silently,  _ Sister Sky, protect me in what I am about to do. _ At the same time, she puts her hands up and says, out loud, “wait. Don’t shoot. I have something more valuable.”

“Oh yeah,” the lead bandit sneers. “How valuable?”

She does not let her voice shake as she answers, “so valuable you won’t want any of this.” She does not let her hand tremble as she gestures at the things stacked outside the wagons.

“I’ll see about that when you tell me what it is,” the bandit retorts.

He doubts her, expects some heirloom necklace worth more in sentiment than gold. But Melisande has figured out Acacia’s plan. “Caci, don’t do this,” she pleads, and Acacia wishes she could listen.

It feels wrong, so wrong, to break her secrecy like this, but it’s their only hope. She won’t let anything stop her. Not the bandit’s condescension. Not Melisande’s worry. Not her own fear. She locks her gaze with the bandit’s, says with as much assertiveness as she can muster, “it’s me”, and unfurls her wings.

The bandit who spoke earlier whistles. The lead bandit blinks, momentarily stunned. He quickly regains his composure and orders her to walk towards him. She obeys, letting him observe her gait. He asks for her age and wingspan. She tells him. He does not ask for her name. She does not tell him. When she comes to a stop a few feet from the bandit, he circles her, estimating her height and checking her face for signs of illness. He’s silent for seconds that feel like hours and then, “you’ll do.” 

Acacia’s heart beats fast with fear and she tries not to flinch at how roughly the bandit grabs her wrists. But underneath the panic, there’s a calm settling in. An acceptance. A relief. The bandit pushes her in front of him, forcing her to walk away from her wagon and towards his. And after that, towards who knows what. Behind them is silence. Acacia doesn’t dare look, but she knows what she’d see if she did. No gunshots means her friends are unharmed.  _ In a few minutes, they’ll be packing up again and moving on,  _ she reassures herself. 

They reach the bandits’ wagon and Acacia is tied in the back with boxes of other goods. The wagon starts, bouncing over the dirt road, and as Acacia’s blouse starts to slip off, she realizes she never got a chance to re-button it. It is the least of her worries. Over the sound of the horse’s hooves she can hear the bandits discussing how much they’ll make selling her. A million seems to be the consensus.

Somehow, the number makes it all the more real. A million - so many times more than their things would have sold for. A million - an estimate that came from the prices for other winged people. A million - still not as much as her dreams were worth.

Acacia begins to cry. She is terrified of what comes next, horrified by what she’s done. She regrets it. Or maybe she doesn’t. It’s too early to tell. She wishes she could have said goodbye.


End file.
